The Doctor Wore Spurs. Leanne Banks

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just been signed on to the Jill Hershey Modeling Agency, I’d like to know how it came about.”

      She glanced away and waved her hand in a dismissing gesture. “It was just a silly remark. I’m sure you know Trina is a fan of yours.”

      “What was the remark?”

      She rearranged the location of a pencil holder on her desk. “Is this really necessary?”

      “Yep.”

      She looked up and sighed. “She said you had the best backside of any doctor she’d ever seen.”

      “So you picked me for my butt. How shallow,” he said in an amused voice. “I’m surprised at you.”

      “This is not about your butt,” she said. “I chose you because you will photograph well and you embody the image of a true Texan and the possibility, the dream of a hero.”

      “It’s about image and press.”

      She lifted her chin. “It’s about understanding what the public’s dreams are. I believe most people feel there has been a shortage of heroes. By using you, your image, and what you do we not only give people the dream of a hero, we offer them the opportunity to be heroes, too.” She paused a half beat and could have knocked him flat with the expression in her gaze. “I dare you.”

      Silence followed, but Tyler felt as if a lightning bolt had cracked through him. Her passion, the same passion he felt, sparked from her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed with it. Her voice resonated with it. He felt an inexplicable promise of fulfillment, of a missing piece he hadn’t thought was missing. In that moment he craved her in every way a man could crave a woman, and he’d never felt that way before.

      He bit back an oath and tried to cover his confusion with a chuckle. “Okay, when do I strip?”

      She blinked, and the color in her cheeks intensified. “You won’t have to strip,” she said weakly.

      “Now I know why they call you a sorceress,” he said.

      “I’m not a sorceress,” she quickly denied. “I just get the job done.”

      “No, you do more. You get people health care they need and give the contributors something they need. That’s more than getting the job done.” He held her gaze, the thread of connection drawing him while her eyes warned him off. “What about you, Jill? Who is your hero?”

      The light in her eyes dimmed a little, but her posture remained erect. “I learned the hard way not to count on someone else to be my hero. I can be my own hero.”

      He felt a strange stinging sensation and fought the strangest, craziest desire to be her hero. Pushing the insanity inside, he replaced it with another. “What are you doing for dinner?”

      “It’s been a long day, but I’d like to sketch out some more ideas while they’re fresh in my head. I’m eating at home,” she said firmly.

      I do not want to spend my evening with you, she might as well have said. Tyler got her message loud and clear. If he was the nice guy everyone thought he was, he would comply with her wishes; and if he told himself she wasn’t worth his time, he would leave her alone.

      Jill’s doorbell rang at eight o’clock while she was listening to a classical music CD and writing potential ad slogans. Frowning, she glanced at the door and rose. Since she’d just arrived in Fort Worth a few days ago, she hadn’t really made any friends, so she couldn’t imagine who— She looked through the peephole and saw Tyler wearing a cocky grin and carrying a small brown paper bag.

      She opened the door and blocked the doorway. She didn’t want him in her temporary home tonight. The man took up entirely too much space of every room he entered. He could make a wheat field feel crowded.

      “Hi,” he said. “Since you fainted in my arms last night, I thought I should make sure you’re okay tonight. No relapses?”

      “Thank you. None. I’m fine.”

      “I forgot to tell you that TJ made it through the surgery today.”

      She felt a softening inside her. “Thank you. I’m glad to hear that. I’ll have to go visit him.”

      He lifted the bag. “Also brought some Blue Bell ice cream to share with you and find out more about my modeling assignment.”

      Give up, Jill told herself. “Come in,” she said, unable to conceal her reticence.

      He gave a bad-boy grin and sauntered inside. “You were going to let me stay out there all night.” He made a tsking sound. “I can see you need some exposure to our Texan hospitality. What made you let me in? My smile, charm or great butt?”

      Just for fun, she was sorely tempted to say his great butt. “Ice cream,” she told him. “It’s one of my five basic food groups.”

      He plastered a crestfallen expression on his face. “The ice cream was a bonus. I was supposed to be the main draw. I don’t know if my ego can take this.”

      “Oh, I’m sure it can,” she said. “Isn’t it the biggest part of you?”

      “Oh,” he said, giving a rough chuckle and shaking his head. He moved closer, crowding her. “That’s a terrible thing to say to a man. You know you’re asking for trouble, don’t you?”

      Three

      Uh-oh. Jill’s heart slammed into her rib cage at the seductively predatory look on Tyler’s face. She licked her lips. “I thought we decided you didn’t need to flirt with me.”

      “You said that. Not me,” he said, moving closer.

      She took a step backward. Her heart still racing, she struggled to remain rational. “This is silly. You have an entire hospital full of women interested in you. The only reason you’re doing this is because I’m not interested in you.”

      “You’re not?” he said, his voice rippling over her nerve endings.

      She took another step back. “I told you I’m here to do a job.”

      “And you’re not at all attracted to me,” he said.

      Jill took another step and felt the wall behind her. “You’re a flirt.”

      He nodded. “You don’t like flirts.”

      “I haven’t had good experience with flirts.”

      He went still for a moment and stared into her, not at her, into her, and she could almost swear he could read her. “Your husband was a flirt,” he said, and gently lifted his hand to her cheek.

      His touch made something inside her tumble free. She closed her eyes to fight the feeling.

      “He was an idiot.”

      “How do you know?” she whispered, appalled at the burning sensation behind her eyes.

      “He had you forever, but he let

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